


Want me more than others, not exclusively

by CrypticSighs



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28196316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrypticSighs/pseuds/CrypticSighs
Summary: Laird flirts with Gerri and Roman gets jealous.
Relationships: Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Want me more than others, not exclusively

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gerrikillallmen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerrikillallmen/gifts).



Roman is on his way to Logan’s office when he spots Gerri getting off the elevator, her back to him. A smile instantly breaks across his face. He’s about to holler at her when Laird also exits the elevator behind her, the two already deep in conversation. Roman hangs back, stalking them as they continue down the hall. They seem very comfortable with each other, he tracks Gerri tucking her hair behind her ear as she listens intently to Laird. They come to a sudden stop, Laird rummaging in his pocket before handing something to Gerri. A frown forms on Roman’s face when he realises it’s a phone. Warning signs start flashing in his brain as Gerri types out something before returning the phone to Laird. Roman starts picking up his pace when one of Gerri’s underlings interrupts them first. She’s obviously needed to resolve yet another crisis because she immediately rushes to follow her assistant.

“No problem, I’ll send you those details,” Laird calls cheerily after her. Roman finally within earshot.  
“Thanks,” she shouts back with a small wave, either ignores Roman or doesn’t see him.  
“Everything okay?” Roman asks nonchalantly, now standing in Gerri’s previous position.  
“Of course,” Laird smiles at him. “Ready for the meeting?”  
“Fuck yeah,” Roman confirms.

He only half-listens to Laird’s small talk as they continue to Logan’s office. His brain buzzing with ideas of what “details” Laird could be sharing with Gerri.

*

Roman is lounging haphazardly on one of Logan’s office sofas a week later. Karl and Laird on the opposite sofa, chatting away like school girls. Roman wonders whether Laird is aware that Karl is basically in love with him.

“How’s your girl, Roman?” Laird unexpectedly asks him. “Still together?”  
“Tabitha?” Roman clarifies, frowning in confusion. He hadn’t been very focused on their conversation beforehand. “Yeah, it’s ongoing.”  
“Whatever you do, don’t marry her,” Karl advises solemnly.  
“That’s rich coming from you,” Laird jokes, pushes Karl’s shoulder lightly. “I’m the divorcee here.”  
“Hey, I’m just saying,” Karl exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “I wouldn’t do it again, if it ever came to it. Would you? How dry is the ink on your divorce now?”  
“It’s not the dryness of the ink that bothers me,” Laird retorts. “It’s the paying of the alimony.”

Karl shakes his head and chuckles, clearly thinks everything that Laird says is golden. Why “sports massage” Karl thinks he’s in any position to distribute marriage advice is beyond Roman. If half the stories Roman has heard are true, Karl’s never given any consideration to following his marriage vows.

“Divorced and she’s still fucking you?” Roman asks flippantly, decides to leave Karl’s hyprocrisy for another day.  
“Indeed,” Laird sighs. “ I don’t know though. I’d be foolish enough to do it all again, for the right woman.”  
“Oh,” Karl interjects. His interest, more likely jealousy, peaking. “You got someone in mind?”

Laird opens his mouth to respond when the door suddenly opens behind him.

“Logan will be in shortly,” Gerri announces, leaning on the open door. “He’s just wrapping up with Karolina.”

She’s wearing the navy suit and her shorter string of pearls. Roman thinks it’s his favourite of her dress suits, it enhances her blue eyes. But he prefers the blouses, all delicate buttons and soft fabrics. He often daydreams about fiddling with her pearls and tracing the lower necklines with his fingers.

“Thanks, Gerri,” Karl says shortly, displeased with the interruption.

Laird instantly straightens in his seat and directs his body towards her. Roman finds himself scowling when he sees the huge grin on Laird’s face as he gazes at her.

“Hey,” Laird declares eagerly. “Did my guy fix you up?”  
“Yeah, he did,” Gerri says politely. “He was in and out, it was all surprisingly smooth.”

This must be related to the conversation Roman witnessed last week and apparently it wasn’t work related. However he can’t understand what personal issue Gerri would possibly discuss with Laird.

“In and out?” Roman queries casually.  
“Of my apartment,” Gerri explains. An annoyed glint in her eye when Roman’s eyebrows raise. “The apartment upstairs is being renovated and damaged my bedroom ceiling, I had to get someone in.”  
“Jack’s great: quick and clean,” Laird says enthusiastically. “Glad he could help.”  
“I appreciate you recommending him,” Gerri states kindly with a small smile.  
“I’ll think of a way you can repay me then,” Laird responds, a hint of flirtation to his tone.

Gerri’s eyebrows raise but before she can reply, Logan’s voice is heard approaching the office. Gerri only gives them a sympathetic smile as she takes her leave.

“I guess that answers my question then,” Karl mutters just before Logan finally enters.

Roman can hardly maintain his concentration during the meeting, just keeps picturing the smarmy grin on Laird’s face as he stared at Gerri. He wonders what Gerri’s next move would have been if his father hadn’t interrupted, isn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed with Logan’s timing.

*

The whole gang is in attendance at a gala that Friday night. Roman takes a break at his table with Tabitha after completing his first round of corporate hand jobs to some shareholders and business partners in the room. His jaw is aching from all the fake smiling, most of the jokes he had to listen to were as old and wrinkled as the men themselves. He guzzles his champagne while Tabitha dazzles the fellow guests they’re stuck with for the evening. He appreciates how good she is at this: charmingly beautiful and beautifully charming. He feels a sudden wave of guilt that he can’t explain and surveys the room, looking for a distraction.

Gerri’s blonde updo catches his eye at a nearby table, his gaze trails up and down the side of her exposed neck. He smiles to himself while she sips her martini, thinks of their chat at Shiv’s rehearsal dinner. His pleasant thoughts are disrupted when Laird takes a seat next to Gerri. He glowers at them as they smile and chat, a sickening feeling building in his stomach with every passing minute.

As each course is served, he just scrapes the food around the plate. Tries to join in with the table conversation but Gerri and Laird keep attracting his attention, his brain recording every expression and gesture between them.

“Everything okay?” Tabitha whispers during dessert.  
“Huh?” Roman responds, jerking his head to look at her. “Yeah, just making a mental list of all the dicks I still have to suck this evening.”

The speeches are endless and boring as usual and his second circulation of the room afterwards isn’t much more enjoyable. Nonetheless he charms, reassures and all round bullshits as many people as possible, just as Gerri had instructed that afternoon. He’s greasing a couple of shareholders when he notices the lady herself standing by the bar. Lingering by her side, yet again, is Laird.

Roman can’t remember seeing Gerri tonight without Laird hanging over her. His nostrils flare when Laird suddenly rests his hand on her arm. Gerri doesn’t pull away, doesn’t seem remotely uncomfortable with him touching her. They just carry on talking until he finally drops his hand and Roman can’t decide if it’s his imagination or if their proximity to each other is closer than necessary.

When Laird eventually disappears, Roman excuses himself and sidles up beside Gerri. She’s wearing a deep blue dress, the v-neck stopping just before any cleavage is on display. He realises she never really does show cleavage, or wear skirts above the knee. Every outfit is feminine but practical, enough to show she’s a woman without having anything on show. 

She doesn’t say a word as he stands there, just flits her eyes sideways to him briefly as she sips her drink. It pisses him off more than anything else he’s witnessed this evening.

“So,” he says casually. “You fucking Laird?”  
“What?” she responds calmly.  
“Laird,” he repeats, leaning his elbow on the bar. “You fucking him, or just considering it, or what?”  
“I’m struggling to see why that would be any of your business,” she answers coolly, finally turning to face him properly.

Roman stares at her in disbelief. The company is in the middle of a PR meltdown, with the latest family civil war only adding fuel to the fire, and his father is stupidly clinging to the CEO seat with rapidly slipping fingers. He and Gerri are supposed to be in alliance but she’s too busy hanging off Laird’s every word to assist with the ass kissing Roman’s been doing all evening. It feels very much like his business.

“I’m just trying to confirm what my spidey senses are telling me,” he explains lightly.  
“Huh,” she retorts, eyes narrowing. “Maybe you should go back to high school then, Peter Parker, because you have a lot to learn if you think I’m going to dignify that question with an answer.”  
“C’mon, Gerri,” he argues. “The way he keeps showing up everywhere you are, drooling all over you. His dick is practically half-hard every time he looks at you.”  
“Funny, I hadn’t noticed that with _him_ ,” she emphasises, staring him straight in the eye.

He lowers his head slightly, feels like she’s slapped him across the cheek by hinting at the phone calls. He’s not ashamed of his feelings but he’s hurt at being made to feel like an embarrassing teenager. His gaze travels up and down her dress. She looks stunning, which only angers him more. 

“You seriously telling me the silver fox isn’t trying to seduce you with his flirty eyebrows and currently unreceding hairline?” he asks disbelievingly, standing up straight.  
“Do you want him for yourself, is that it?” she jokes, an annoyed strain to her voice. “His bromance with Karl seems pretty solid but you could try to wedge yourself in there.”  
“Cute,” he says shortly, rolling his eyes. “Are you gonna deny it?”

Gerri tilts her head at him, considering her options. She’s felt Roman’s eyes on them all evening, could see him over Laird’s shoulder, watching them at the bar. She and Roman may have an arrangement but she’s baffled as to why he’s making these demands of her. She sighs before answering.

“I don’t have to,” she states quietly, staring him down. “But I think you should be asking yourself why you’re over here interrogating me about Laird when I’m not your date tonight.”

Roman turns to look at Tabitha, briefly watches her dancing with some guy. The suave asshole is clearly flirting with her. Roman’s not surprised but he’s stunned to realise that he doesn’t care either. He returns his wide eyes to Gerri, though suddenly he’s run out of arguments.

“I didn’t make you any promises, Roman, and I didn’t ask any of you,” she reminds him when it’s clear he has no rebuttal. “Not personal ones, at least. Enjoy your evening.”

The wave of perfume he inhales as she slides past him is the final kick in the gut.

*

He ends it with Tabitha that weekend, it’s all refreshingly easy. After all, she was right about the “eunuch besties” thing. The only real proof of them breaking up is her moving out but he knows their friendship will continue, after a few weeks of mutual silence. He’s staring out his father’s office window on the Monday morning when the door opens behind him.

“Oh, I assumed your date was with Gerri,” Karl remarks confusedly.

Roman’s head spins round at the mention of her name, Laird glancing over at him awkwardly.

“No, wasn't meant to be,” Laird quickly clarifies with an embarrassed smile. “Good weekend, Roman?”  
“Yeah, not too shabby,” Roman answers vaguely.

He immediately turns back to the window to hide the relief on his face.

*

Roman’s hardly seen Gerri all week: Logan has been holding her hostage during the day and she won’t answer her phone at night, at least not to him. Everything feels wrong and out of place, he can’t face another day of this separation. He takes a few deep breaths as he heads over to her office. It’s well past close of business, pretty much everyone has gone home for the evening. He knocks on the glass before pushing the door open without waiting for a response.

“Hey,” he hollers lightly, stepping inside and tentatively crossing the room to stand in front of her desk. “I’ve been calling you.”

“I’m aware,” she states simply, eyes glued to her monitors.

He nods once, sliding his hands into his pockets. Apparently she’s not going to make this easy for him, nor should she really.

“I broke up with Tabitha,” he ventures.  
“I’m aware of that too,” she responds coolly, still typing.  
“She deserves better,” he adds.  
“Very much so," she agrees. "I liked her. Terrible business sense but she wasn’t completely empty headed, unlike most of them.”  
“I’m sorry, Gerri.”

Her hands hover over the keyboard and she stares at them as she considers his words. Eventually she twists her chair round to face him fully. Tucks her hair behind her ear before resting her folded hands on the desk and gazing at Roman.

“For which part?,” she queries, some residual anger resurfacing from last week. “Asking those questions or believing you had the right to ask them in the first place? I’m not your property, Roman. I may technically work for you but you don’t own me.”  
“I know, I was out of line,” he agrees calmly. “I’m a fucking rockstar moron and I apologise. It drove me crazy every time I saw the tall bastard swagger your way.”

Her face softens at that. Roman Roy sincerely apologising, she never thought she’d see the day. She doesn’t know whether to be worried or touched by his jealousy. She looks down at her hands as she thinks of hearing about his break up the other day. Her cheeks warm when she recalls the unexpected relief that rushed through her at the time.

“I never asked you to break up with Tabitha,” she points out, still looking downwards.  
“It wasn’t fair to keep it going when I wasn’t invested in her,” he responds, emphasises that last word just slightly.

She lifts her head, her eyes widening at his open expression. Everyone knows Roman is never invested in his girlfriends but his choice of reasoning is interesting nonetheless. Regardless of the startling intimacy issues that Tabitha revealed at Tern Haven, she and Roman seemed to be well suited. Their personalities and deranged senses of humour certainly complemented each other. Gerri suppresses the fear that the only reasonable explanation for Roman’s sudden decision is her.

“Okay,” she accepts.  
“Okay,” Roman sighs, pausing briefly. “I understand if you want to put a lid on our thing…”  
“If I wanted to end our arrangement, I would tell you,” she replies honestly.  
“You wouldn’t fuck Laird on the conference room table for all to see?” he jokes, hoping it’s not too soon.

She can’t help but smirk at him. “I can’t guarantee that Karl would give the same answer but no, I wouldn’t,” she says, playing along.

He steps closer so he can lean his hands on her desk. “Is that a personal promise?” he asks huskily.

Gerri purses her lips as if seriously considering his question. “If it is to be said, so it be, so it is,” she deadpans.

“Ha,” Roman laughs. “Should I be worried about that elongated fucker too?”  
“Only if you play basketball against him,” she quips. “Although I don’t imagine his coordination skills are the sharpest.”  
“And I don’t tend to relinquish my balls to just anyone,” he retorts, eyebrows raising suggestively at her. 

He runs his eyes over her face, smiling at her. He forgot how good this made him feel, how she made him feel.

“Can I call you later?” he asks sincerely, the question slipping from his mouth before he can think about it.

Gerri tries to hide her surprise at his request, he never asks first. She doesn’t regret not answering his calls this past week but that doesn’t mean she didn’t stare at his name on her phone screen every single time, until it eventually disappeared. Despite her anger, she’s felt his absence as well. It’s been strange to not have him haunting her office or not allowing him to disrupt her evenings.

“Yes,” she answers with a small smile.

He beams at her one last time before heading towards the door. The sick feeling that’s been lingering in his stomach all week is finally gone, replaced with something far lighter.

Gerri watches his retreating form disappear down the hall before returning to her work.

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for gerrikillallmen, it's all thanks to her prompt.


End file.
